As soon as Bryce and I were on the road again, I left a message on Ryan’s phone to let him know we’d found Zack but that he needed time alone and was staying at Jill’s. The next call was tougher since the first thing Jill wanted to do was go to Zack. It took a bit of finesse and a lot of stubborn bitchiness to convince her, but she finally gave in and grudgingly accepted it as some sort of demon thing.
With that done, I let my gaze drift out the window. The moon floated high in a sky empty of clouds. I rubbed at my eyes as the fatigue I’d held at bay with adrenaline-charged action wormed its way in. Hard to believe that first meeting with Sonny had been less than twelve hours earlier. And then I’d become Amaryllis for a while, and then . . .
I rubbed my eyes again. Who had I been after Amaryllis?
“Kara!” Bryce said sharply.
I jerked and swallowed. Remembered. “Thanks.”
“You’re exhausted,” he said, voice laden with worry. “You should catch a nap while I drive.”
He was probably right, but I wasn’t ready. “Not yet.” I rolled my neck on my shoulders, felt things pop. “I can’t call it quits until Ryan’s home, or I’ve at least heard from him. Gotta account for everyone in the posse, y’know?”
Bryce frowned but nodded, then drove in silence for a time before speaking again. “I don’t think he was breathing.”
It took me a few seconds to figure out what he meant. “Mzatal wouldn’t have taken Paul to the demon realm if there was no hope,” I told him. “And you know better than anyone that he can work healing miracles.”
A subtle layer of tension eased in his face. “Right. Sure, that makes sense.”
“It’s going to be all right,” I reassured him, while I tried to convince myself as well. My phone rang with Ryan’s caller ID, and I quickly answered. “Hey, you.”
“I got your message, and I’m on my way home,” Ryan said. “Everything’s taken care of with Angela Palatino. Where are you now?”
“Turning off Serenity Road. Should be home in less than a minute.”
“About ten for me. You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Good as can be expected. You?”
“I feel a little weird, like my brain is too big for my head,” he said, “but otherwise I’m good.”
“We can chill together when you get home. We’re at the driveway now.”
“Deal,” he said. “See you in a bit.”
I stuffed my phone into my pocket as Bryce parked, climbed out of the car, and then stopped and looked at the house. The new floodlights under the eaves cast warm pools of amber while also throwing odd shadows onto the porch. The swing creaked gently in the soft breeze, and water dripped from the gutter spouts. Light shone through the front windows, and I wondered if the owners were home.
My hands clenched at my sides. No, it’s my house. MY house. I fought my way back up the slippery slope. Kara’s house. And I’m Kara. It only seemed unfamiliar because of all the changes. But can it change so much and still be mine? I found myself wondering.
“Kara.” Bryce touched my arm, and I startled, blinked. Concern puckered his forehead. “Kara, you really need to get to bed,” he said. “Like, right now.”
“Sure,” I said. Yet I wasn’t convinced sleep could fix it. Who would I wake up as?
I walked up the steps, hesitated before opening the door. Gritting my teeth, I silenced the voice that told me I should knock first, then turned the knob and entered. I dropped my stuff on the table by the door—because it was my house, and I could do that—went to my bedroom and flipped on the light.
Fuzzykins lay curled on my bed. Blinking in the sudden light, she lifted her head and hissed at me. I started to hiss right back at her, then saw the little squiggling lumps. In the middle of my bed.
“You . . . you horrible beast!” I yelled. Bryce burst in behind me, clearly ready to deal with a demon or something worse.
He followed my gaze, then exhaled in relief. “Shit, it’s just Fuzzykins,”
“It’s my bed,” I gritted out. “She had her damn kittens in my bed! Eilahn bought her a ridiculously expensive cat bed, but no, she had to drop her spawn on my comforter!”
Bryce moved forward to peer at the lumps. “She sure did.” A smile spread across his face as the cat mrowred up at him, but he wiped it away when he looked back at me. “Want to crash in the guest room for now, and I’ll, uh, move them or something?”
“Shit.” I sighed. “No, they’re newborns. Better not to move them.” I scowled at the cat. “She knew that too, the little bitch.”
“Actually the proper term for a female cat is a queen, not a bitch . . .” He trailed off at the look on my face. “And you don’t care about that.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you still should crash in the guest room—”
Eilahn burst in and shouldered her way past us, cutting him off. “Fuzzykins! You good girl!”
“Yeah, what a good girl,” I muttered. “More creatures in the house who hate me.” A weird and miserable pang went through me at the thought. It bugged the hell out of me that this cat—all cats—despised me simply because I was a summoner. The unfairness of it gnawed at me, though I knew my current exhaustion exacerbated my reaction.
Eilahn continued to coo and ah over the kittens, clearly oblivious to the fact that she sported a black eye and ripped, bloodstained clothing. “Oh, you wonderful girl!” she gushed to Fuzzykins. “There is Bumper and Squig and Granger and Fillion and Dire and Cake!”
Bryce touched my arm and gave me a reassuring smile. I realized he’d likely picked up on my mood. “Maybe in a couple of days,” he said softly, “after they’ve settled in, and you’ve had some rest, you could see what would happen if you got to know one early on. From the beginning.”
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know. All cats hate me.” I rubbed my gritty eyes. “I’m going to go crash on the couch or something.”
“Kara, use the guest room,” he insisted. “You need some quiet.”
I watched Eilahn fuss over the kittens, unsettled by the weird feeling that I’d lost her, too. I knew it wasn’t true at all, but right now everything felt off. Why hadn’t I even tried to call her? “Yeah, okay.” I turned and left my bedroom, walked down the hall, and into the guest room. Then stood in the middle of the floor and looked around, confused. I’d thought I was home, but no. Guest rooms were for guests. That made sense. I shook my head at my lapse.
I heard Bryce curse and pivoted to look questioningly at him. He stood in the hallway outside the door with his phone to his ear. His critical gaze raked through me as though finding me lacking, and it left me unsettled, shaken.
An overwhelming sense that I’d forgotten something vital slithered through me, something barely beyond my reach. My mind scrambled to figure out what was missing, and the sensation increased, as if once again I stood on a tilting plain of smooth glass with nothing to hang on to. “Bryce?” I choked out, struggled to dig in, grab on to anything. This was wrong. Une. Due . . . Due . . .
Or maybe I was just tired? Tired and imagining things. Yes, that was it. Simply tired. I looked over at the inviting bed. Everything would be better once I slept. I’d feel like a new person.
“Kristoff? Thatcher here,” Bryce said tersely into his phone, eyes never leaving me. “How far away are you? Kara’s slipping. I’ve never seen it this bad.”
Who was he talking about? Should I be worried about her? I wondered distantly.
He shoved his phone into his pocket, moved in and gripped me by my shoulders. “Kara!” he shouted at me and gave me a sharp shake. “Your name is Kara!”